Something Worth Holding On To
by andyoureturntome
Summary: Myrcella being beautiful was nothing new. She had always been this way, delicate and sweet, the most gorgeous girl in the room. When they had been younger, she'd had a crush on Robb, but she had been too young for him to seriously consider her. But he considered her now. They had been friends when they were kids, but things felt very different all of a sudden. Robcella AU.


**Quick little oneshot about Rob and Myrcella. AU. Duh. Modern times. GRRM wrote ASOIAF, and I wrote this using his characters and certain aspects of his world. I wrote this to escape and avoid my homework. I don't write for profit!**

**Maybe I'm just giddy from sleep deprivation, but I am super happy with how this turned out. Review if you want, enjoy if you're able!**

* * *

Robb stepped out of his car and tossed his keys to the valet. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed heavily before unwillingly walking into the restaurant. It wasn't that he didn't want to have dinner with his family; he just didn't want to have to see them all happily coupled up while he sat there, alone. He had tried to express this to his mother, but his complaints had fallen on deaf and unsympathetic ears. Not that he could blame her. It was, after all, entirely his fault that his last two relationships had failed miserably.

Pushing past the maître d', he made his way over to his family's usual table. The majority of them were already gathered around it studying their menus. Catelyn glanced up from hers to smile fondly at her oldest son, her eyebrows drawn together in a slightly deprecatory manner.

"You're late," she teased gently, though underneath, he could hear a ruffle of her annoyance. Indulgent as she was with her children, Catelyn still liked them to behave properly and show her the proper level of respect.

"Not as late as Arya is," he shot back after taking a quick survey of who was already there.

"Arya called to let us know that she was running late, though," Ned grunted, always quick to defend his youngest daughter.

"Well, really, Gendry called. We would never know where she was if it wasn't for him," Sansa lilted. She was smiling sweetly at Robb while her hand rested lightly on her rapidly growing stomach. The huge diamond on her left hand twinkled in the candlelight. Sandor beside her rested a large arm around her shoulders, a gentle look of admiration on his face as he stared at his wife.

"Well, still, Arya let us know, which is more than we can say for you," Catelyn said as though that ended the matter.

Robb rolled his eyes.

"It was a _few minutes_! Can we let it go and eat already?"

He wedged himself into an empty seat between Jon and Theon who were both laughing at his expense. Ignoring them, he seized his menu though he already knew what he was going to order. His parents thankfully left him alone after that and instead turned their attention to Jon and Ygritte who had yet to get married.

Cat and Ned were both old fashioned, and they thought that couples shouldn't live together before they were married. Jon agreed with them, but Ygritte was a free spirit and she didn't see the need. In her mind, she and Jon were as good as married, so why did they need a ring? Sansa said that she was a bad influence for Arya, and Catelyn tended to agree.

As they ran through the familiar script of the argument, Robb moodily played with his silverware, earning his a disapproving frown from his mother. This irked him more than it usually did. Here he was, a grown man, and his mother still treated him like a child.

"Lucky for us, we can't get married! Otherwise you'd be on our case, too!" Theon chortled, flinging an arm around Ramsay. The table erupted in laughter at this declaration, and Catelyn pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. She wasn't ready to stop needling Jon and Ygritte yet, but Ned took her hand, prompting her to let it go.

Ramsay grinned at Theon, and the two exchanged a quick kiss. He had a wicked streak that often encouraged Theon's already mischievous nature. The two of them complemented each other nicely, though sometimes, they got each other into trouble.

After the Starks collected themselves, they proceeded to order their food and begin their meal. About halfway through, Arya and Gendry finally appeared, hand in hand and slightly flushed in the face. Arya was bobbing with restless energy, and Gendry was grinning down adoringly at her. He pulled out a chair for her, but she made a face and sat in the other chair. Laughing at her stubbornness, Gendry sat down in the chair he'd offered her and carelessly flung an arm around her.

"Where have you been?" Bran affixed Arya with his incisive stare, not as quick to excuse her as was the rest of the family. They were the most at odds with one another than any of the siblings, except perhaps Arya and Sansa.

"What Bran means is, did you have fun?" Meera gently corrected him, laying a placating hand on his forearm.

"We were at Gendry's garage, and we did have fun!" Arya ignored Bran and grinned radiantly at his girlfriend instead. "Gendry let me race the car he just built!"

"Arya," Gendry hissed through gritted teeth, shooting a worried look at her father.

"Cool!" Rickon shouted at the same moment, immediately claiming his sister's attention. With a playful swat at Gendry's arm, Arya turned and started telling Rickon and Shireen all about her afternoon's adventure.

The dinner passed pleasantly enough, but Robb didn't participate much in the conversation. He couldn't believe that Arya had a boyfriend and he was still single. Bran and Rickon were still kids for God's sake, and even _they_ had girlfriends. These facts wouldn't bother him so much if it weren't for the fact that his mom called him to remind him of this daily and pester him to date again. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't feel ready to date again. Even though everything with Jeyne had happened almost a year ago, he still felt raw from it all.

Dinner was finally over, and Ned paid the check. The family scattered, going their separate ways and to their separate homes. Robb stayed behind, swirling his drink thoughtfully. Catelyn lingered at his side, pressing a kiss into his auburn curls.

"I know you think I nag you too much, but I just want what's best for you. You've had a hard year. It's time you smiled again."

Robb didn't respond, and he waited until she left before he stood up. The restaurant had gotten crowded as the night had gotten later, and it with some difficulty that he wove through the crowded tables. He'd almost made it to the door when he felt a hand land on his arm.

"Robb!" a sweet voice called out.

He turned to take in the striking blonde girl who was smiling up at him beatifically. Her emerald eyes were dancing, and her plump, red lips were almost mesmerizing to him.

"Myrcella?" he sputtered, a beat too late.

It had been years since he'd last seen her. He had to have been in college, and she in high school. His eyes lingered on her face, taking in her features, so familiar and yet so new to him. Impulsively, he bent to kiss her on the cheek. He froze right after he did so. _Where did that come from?_

"How are you?" he exclaimed, trying to cover the moment of awkwardness.

A pleasant flush was creeping across her face, and she twisted a blonde tress between her fingers.

"I'm well! I'm just at dinner with my family." She gestured over to a table, and Robb finally tore his gaze away from her face to look over her shoulder. An older blonde woman was watching them closely, a look of disdain crossing her haughty features. Robb's lip curled back in disgust in spite of himself. The resentment in his stomach only deepened as he saw the blonde boy sitting beside her.

Even from the distance at which he stood, Robb could see that Joffrey was tormenting his little brother who was sitting beside him and looking on the edge of tears.

"Oh." The word came of flatly, coldly, and Robb barely registered that he'd said it.

Myrcella shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, suddenly aware of the tension in Robb's shoulders.

"Well, I should go," she said slowly before reluctantly turning away.

"Yeah," Robb said hollowly, watching her go.

* * *

He called her. He didn't know why, exactly, but he'd called her. Sansa had suspiciously given him her number, questioning him all the while. Once upon a time, she had been friends with Myrcella, but that was before the huge falling out between their families.

"Don't reopen old wounds," Sansa had warned, and Robb had tried to push away the strange sense of dread that had taken over him at her words.

She was sitting across from him now, even more beautiful than he'd remembered from a few nights ago. Her hair shone golden in the sun, but nothing seemed to shine brighter than her eyes. Myrcella being beautiful was nothing new. She had always been this way, delicate and sweet, the most gorgeous girl in the room. Guys had always wanted to date her, and she never seemed to be without her admirers.

When they had been younger, she'd had a crush on Robb, but she had been too young for him to seriously consider her. But he considered her now. They had been friends when they were kids, but things felt very different all of a sudden. He wondered what it would be like to stroke her hair, kiss those rosy lips.

"How's your family?" those lips were asking him.

Robb cleared his throat.

"They're good. They're good. My dad finally stopped stressing so much, and things have really calmed down for us."

He faltered and looked apologetically at Myrcella. The reason that everything had been so hectic for his father lately was because her father was dead.

"Myrcella, I'm sorry." His hand shot out to grab hers. She smiled sadly at him.

"It's okay, really. I just wish I had a family as close as yours to help me through."

He felt a surge of regret for the girl.

"Sansa wanted to be there for you, but…"

"I know!" she interrupted quickly. "I'm not blaming her at all. Things are…complicated…between our families. I can't even remember a time when they weren't." Her voice was sad, small, and far away. Shaking her head, she turned to smile at him again.

"Is Sansa happy now?"

Robb nodded.

"She is. She and Sandor are expecting a baby."

Myrcella's face erupted into true joy.

"How wonderful! Please tell her congratulations!" She squeezed his hand enthusiastically. "I'm so glad she didn't marry Joffrey."

The way she said her brother's name made Robb think that there was something more there, and he studied her face concernedly. Her bright smile stayed fixed in place, but he wondered if wasn't just a mask concealing some deeper sadness.

"How are things at home, Cella," he asked quietly, the old nickname slipping out.

She bit her lip, not quite meeting his eyes.

"They could be worse. Tommen and I do the best we can. Trystane's around a lot, which is good."

"Trystane?" Robb made a face as though the name was unpleasant to him.

"My fiancé." Myrcella looked surprised and remorseful as she took in Robb's shocked face. "I thought you knew!"

Robb's eyes slid down to her other hand, resting innocently on the table. How could he have missed it? The ring was huge and glittered obtrusively, shooting glares of light into his eyes.

"Oh. I see."

They finished their lunch in silence, suddenly hindered by the third, unwelcome guest.

* * *

He hadn't expected to hear from her again, hadn't expected to see her again. Even if she called him, he told himself, he wouldn't answer. He resolved to just write her off, pretend that their lunch had just been a meal between old friends. They had caught up with one another and now they were done.

That was before she called him in tears.

He had been at Sansa and Sandor's house eating dinner when his phone went off. He could tell by the way Sansa's eyes narrowed that she'd seen the name flash across the screen, but she didn't say anything. He'd taken the call in the next room, barely understanding what Myrcella was saying as she sobbed inconsolably on the other end. From her tears, he managed to glean something about her mother, and he knew that there was no end to the amount of cruel things Cersei could have said to upset her daughter.

Without any explanation, he had grabbed his keys, bid Sansa and Sandor a quick goodbye, and sprinted to his car.

By the time he got to her apartment, she had gotten herself together and was offering a watery smile and continued assertions that she was okay. Ignoring her, Robb pushed through the door, refusing to leave until she was smiling in truth.

Sitting on the floor in her living room, they got through half a bottle of wine before either one said anything.

"Where's Trystane?" Robb asked, taking a deep gulp. He passed the bottle over to her.

"Working for his father. He works a lot." Myrcella took a bigger drink than Robb had, the rare hint of bitterness slipping into her voice.

"I thought you said he's been there for you."

"I told you what you wanted to hear. I couldn't bear to have you looking at me like I'm some sad, broken doll. Like that!" She pointed at his face, and Robb quickly tried to wipe the pity from his face.

"I wish I would have known. I would have been there for you," he cursed internally, the wine making him say things he'd rather not reveal.

"You had to be there for Sansa. Plus, you had other things going on…"

"But still."

Myrcella laughed and stroked the stubborn cleft in his chin. He tensed at the contact, but she didn't notice. She was too drunk.

"It's okay. Really."

"You say that a lot."

"Well, it's a lot okay." She laughed, falling slightly against his chest. Propping her up, he steadied her but left his arms around her.

"Trystane is good, you know? He's nice to me. We're friends."

She sounded like a little girl when she said it, the vulnerability slipping in. It almost sounded like she was uncertain, like she was looking to Robb to tell her that she was doing the right thing.

"Do you love him?"

Myrcella shook her head, looking confused.

"S'not important. Love doesn't matter. There are other reasons to marry."

"Other reasons, yes, but not better!" Robb tried not to sound as alarmed as he felt, but he wasn't concealing his concern well. "Myrcella, I know! I almost married for those reasons."

"Twice."

"What?"

"You almost married for the wrong reasons, _twice_."

Her head drooped and fell against his chest. Lifting her, he cradled her sleeping form in his arms and carried her to bed. Before he left her, he glanced at the silhouette of her tiny body one more time.

If only he'd had her sooner, maybe the ring on her finger would have been his.

* * *

They weren't keeping their meetings a secret, exactly; they just weren't telling anyone that they were spending time together. They agreed that it was easier that way, less messy. It would take explaining, and there would inevitably suspicion, and they didn't want to upset their families. Those were the excuses they gave, but they weren't the real reason. The real reason was a lot more complicated than that. In truth, they didn't want to have to face what they were, why they couldn't stop seeing one another.

Robb didn't question her on why he was the one that had to go to the cake testing with her. He didn't care; he was just happy to spend time with her. Trystane was at work, and he told Myrcella that he didn't care about wedding planning anyway. She had told Robb this in a brittle voice, carefully concealing how much it upset her.

Robb felt his blood boil. He might as well have told her that he didn't care about her at all. Robb decided that he hated Trystane. He wasn't good enough for Myrcella. But he didn't say this. He merely told Myrcella that she deserved better. Just friendly concern.

As they walked into the bakery, his hand brushed against hers, and she didn't jerk away. Their fingers twined together. Myrcella was suddenly flushing furiously. As the bell tinkled, the baker came toward them, smiling at them and ushering them to a table in the corner.

"Are you the fiancé?" she asked Robb kindly.

"Yes," Robb shot back quickly, shooting Myrcella a playful grin. She smiled back uncertainly but played along.

They ate more cake than they ever could have had room for, feeding each other, playfully smearing it across one another's face. Myrcella laughed harder than she had since her father died, and Robb found himself grinning like a fool for the first time in months.

When Myrcella finally selected her wedding cake, a sober mood seemed to descend upon them, and as they exited the bakery, Robb could have sworn he saw a tear streak down her face.

* * *

They were leaving the florist when they ran into her. Myrcella saw her first, seizing Robb's hand, trying to warn him. Jeyne spotted them and crossed the street, blame in her eyes.

Robb subconsciously gripped her hand tighter. He took half a step forward, but Jeyne's glower made it clear that she wasn't ready to make peace with him, now or ever. Her eyes shot accusingly down to his and Myrcella's hands, tightly entwined. A look of hurt skittered across Jeyne's face, but she covered it quickly with an indifferent stare.

"Myrcella, how lovely to see you. _Trystane_ was just saying how much he's looking forward to your _wedding_. He really is a great guy. My father loves working with him."

The threat in her words was subtle, but Robb heard it. He stepped in front of Myrcella defensively. He had no idea that Jeyne's father was doing business with the Martells, but if he was, that meant that Jeyne was probably seeing quite a bit of Trystane. Though she bore Myrcella no ill will, Jeyne certainly hated Robb enough to tell Trystane that his fiancé was having an affair with him.

Myrcella responded kindly, gently easing Robb out of the way. The two girls talked a few minutes more, the tension seeping into the air with their words. Robb only relaxed when he watched her go, and that's when he discovered that he was practically crushing Myrcella's hand in his.

He realized that he was shaking. She led him to the car, whispering soothing words as she rubbed him lightly on the arm. She sat him down in the driver's seat but didn't close the door. Instead, she knelt in front of him. His elbows were resting on his knees, his hands wrapped around his head.

As much as he wanted to hate Jeyne for her grudge, he found that he couldn't blame her. That, he reserved for himself. All he felt was guilt. Myrcella's tiny hands dragged at his arms and lifted his chin so that he was forced to look at her.

"Was that the first time you've seen her since—?"

"Since we called off the wedding? Yeah."

"She can't blame you for that. You couldn't have married her. I don't think she wanted that wedding, either."

"That's not what she blames me for."

Myrcella's heart clenched for him. She knew what was tearing him apart. With tortured, blue eyes, he stared at her, begging her for forgiveness that wasn't hers to give.

"When she lost the baby, Cella, I didn't know what to do. I tried to be there for her, but she pushed me away. I failed everyone. Her. The baby. My family. Rosaline. I broke my engagement with her so I could marry Jeyne. Even when I try to do the right thing, I hurt everyone."

"Shh. Shh." She stroked his face, tears pooling in her eyes for his sake.

"The only right thing you did was not marrying either of them. Unhappy marriages don't do anyone any favors."

_You would know._ Robb didn't say it, but he wanted to. Instead, he buried his head in her shoulder and drew comfort and strength from her until he'd collected himself. Finally, he pushed away from her, bringing a hand to tangle in her curls.

"I'm glad you didn't marry them," she whispered hoarsely, scarcely believing the words that were coming out of his mouth.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a tiny half smile.

"And why is that?"

"I don't like the idea of you being married to someone else."

"Neither do I."

* * *

Myrcella in her wedding dress was a revelation. The white fabric fell gracefully over her curves, the simple silhouette enhancing her already ethereal beauty. It robbed him of breath and broke his heart. She trembled in it, reaching out her hand for him. He crossed the floor quickly and took it, squeezing her tiny fingers in his massive grip.

The wedding was a week away, and they were both a little unsteady, a little on edge today. He turned her so that she was looking at herself in the mirror.

"You look lovely," he whispered, pressing her hand to his lips. He fought to keep the resentment out of his voice. For some reason, he had felt angry at her all day, and he had initially refused to go with her to the fitting. He had only relented when she'd said she'd take Cersei instead. The amount of damage Myrcella's mother could inflict with her words was too much for Myrcella to face, especially in her delicate state.

A broken sob burst from Myrcella's lips, and she darted back into the fitting room. The seamstress was right behind her, fluttering concernedly as she asked what was wrong.

"Just get it off! Please! I can't breathe!"

Robb could hear her cries through the fitting room door. Normally, he would be concerned, but now, he was just angry.

Myrcella could feel him vibrating with rage as they walked out of the store and over to his car. Timidly, she walked at his side, not asking what was the matter because she already knew.

"Why are you even marrying him?" Robb spat at her.

His anger took her off guard, and she didn't know how to respond.

"Because, because I have to," she said finally.

"Why?"

"Because we've been friends for ages."

"So have we!"

"And what does that mean?" For the first time with Robb, she felt her temper flare. "You weren't there, Robb. Trystane was!"

"I'm here now!"

Myrcella didn't know what to say with that. Her face crumpled into tears. Sobbing, she ran away from him. She ran and ran and ran and ran.

* * *

Tonight was the rehearsal dinner. Robb was drunk. Arya and Gendry had come over to his apartment to keep him company, but they weren't doing much to raise his spirits. They were too happy together. Despite Arya's rebuffs of his touches, Robb could see true affection between her and Gendry, and it made him bitter.

He drank, and they bickered, sneaking kisses when they thought he wasn't looking. The later it got, the fouler his temper grew. Finally, he could take it no more, and he threw them out, not that they minded. They didn't know the reason behind Robb's sullenness; they only knew that he had been sulky all week, and they hadn't wanted him to be alone on a Friday night.

After they'd left, Robb had every intention of going to bed, but he couldn't resist checking his phone one more time, hoping against hope that she'd called him.

Shock ran through him and electrified his nerves as he saw the missed call from the unknown number. With shaking fingers, he dialed it back.

"Robb?" Tommen's high pitched voice reached him through his nerves.

"Tommen? What's going on?"

The boy was crying, and Robb was absolutely thunderstruck. He knew something was wrong with her. He could feel it.

"Myrcella's in the hospital!"

* * *

Jon drove him. Robb was numb. He didn't remember calling Jon, didn't remember getting in his car, didn't remember going into the hospital. All he could focus on was Myrcella, lying peacefully in the bed. Cersei looked murderous as she paced at her side. Teeth bared, she blocked his view of her, telling him to leave.

"Mom, please." Myrcella's soft voice broke through, and Jaime eased his sister from the room.

Robb was at her side in an instant. Soft fingers came to stroke his face, and he almost laughed when he realized that it was she comforting him instead of the other way around.

He brought his pale white fingers to stroke the stitches at the side of her face.

"What happened?"

"Arianne's boyfriend," she whispered through white lips. "He went crazy at dinner. You know how she's attracted to dangerous men. I don't know what happened, exactly. They were in a fight and the next thing anyone knew, he had pulled a knife." Fat tears rolled down her cheek.

Blood was pounding in Robb's ears. He had to save her from this. She couldn't marry into this insane family.

"He's crazy," Robb whispered. "Don't cry. You're okay."

"No I'm not! Look at my face! It's ruined. I have to get married tomorrow."

* * *

Robb wasn't going to go. Technically, he wasn't even invited. After he'd exploded on Myrcella last night in the hospital, he was positive that she didn't want him there. He went anyway.

His feet took him to her before his brain even processed what he was doing. She sat regally in the chair at the dressing table as she self-consciously dabbed concealer at the stiches on her face. Her back tensed when she sensed him coming into the room. He met her eyes in the mirror, unable to face her in person quite yet.

Wordlessly, he stepped further into the room, each muffled footstep costing him every ounce of courage. He set a tiny, blue box on the table next to her left hand and left her alone there.

* * *

With trembling hands, she opened the tiny box and promptly burst into tears.

* * *

He stood at the back of the church, not wanting to be there but feeling like he had to see it through. He hoped against hope that the wedding would be called off, that this nightmare would be over. But the music started up, and with mounting dread, he watched as the bridesmaids made their way down the aisle.

Finally, it was Myrcella's turn. Tightly grasping Jaime's arm with her own, she leaned heavily on him as he guided her down the aisle. Whispers broke out among the congregation. It was obvious to everyone that the bride had been crying only minutes before.

Her eyes met with Robb as she passed him, and tears broke out anew. At the end of the aisle stood her groom. It was the first time Robb had ever seen him. He had olive skin, and straight black hair. His face, though kind, was looking at Myrcella with a sense of foreboding. It was apparent that neither one of them wanted this marriage. Robb wanted to scream at the ridiculousness of it all.

Before he could even think about what he was doing, he had stepped into the aisle, eliciting a gasp from the people in the back. Heads whipped around, and everyone looked confusedly from him to Myrcella. Cersei stood, looking absolutely livid. Myrcella halted halfway toward Trystane. She gripped Jaime's hand tightly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and for a minute, Robb wasn't sure who she was talking to.

Then, she was in his arms, and he was lifting her, spinning her around, kissing her. He was never going to let her go.

* * *

**Alert! Alert! I have officially boarded the Robcella ship. There is no going back now. I have to admit that I just did not ****_GET_**** this pairing for the longest time, but the siren song of fanfiction has changed my mind. I was not about this couple at all, but I am gung ho now, y'all!**

**I have no idea how large this fandom is, but judging by the meager offering of good fics out there about them, I have to guess that it's pretty lacking. This saddens me. Perhaps I will have to contribute prodigiously. **

**Thanks if anyone read! xxx**


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